Through Stone Walls
by sulietsexual
Summary: Series of character-study-based drabbles, written taking cues from LiveJournal Table Prompts. These turned out a lot darker than I was expecting. Takes place mostly within the canon of the series, with a look at how different characters react to different canon events. Shared POV. More to come.
1. Prompt 1 - Birth

For what seemed an eternity, there was nothing.

No pain, no emotion, no feeling. Danny felt the absence of everything, but it did not startle her. She felt complete. Intact. As if she was where she was supposed to be. But there was an absence. An absence of life, of sensation, of nerves and blood and muscle. She could no longer feel the rush coursing through her veins, the taste of adventure on her tongue, the longing for love in her heart. She was done, but she was not over. She was at rest but she felt grey, in limbo, like something was waiting for her. She felt the absence.

Then there was pain.

Harsh and brittle, teeth tearing at her flesh and white-hot silver burning in her back. The absence vanished and suddenly there was nothing but deafening, overwhelming pain. She screamed with no voice, writhed with no body, felt herself tear apart and catapult back into existence. Her nerves fractured and exploded, blood rushed through her being, and something changed, twisted, broke inside. The darkness pulled at her. A greater force pulled in the opposite direction. She screamed silently as eternity stretched out in front of her.

And suddenly she had form.

She felt her limbs flex, her skin cool, blood stickly sweet and wet on her back. There was breath in her lungs but it felt wrong. She waited for her heart to beat, but her chest remained hollow, empty, devoid of the rhythmic thrumming she was so accustomed to. The absence returned.

And then she felt nothing.


	2. Prompt 2 - Empty

Perry woke in the middle of the night, waited for the overwhelming presence to take control of her being, and felt the vast nothingness which came instead.

All those months ago, when she first felt only the slightest shiver of another being inside of her, she could ignore the voice in her head that whispered in her dreams. She could put a wall up between herself and the presence which resided in her heart, in her mind, in her veins. She baked brownies and lost track of time, and when the crows came for her, she pushed back against the darkness inside.

Until the day came when it took her over. She clawed and fought, screamed against the darkness threatening to engulf her, but in the end, Perry withdrew, defeated, weakened after the silent battle which no one noticed. She allowed the presence to lift her arms, use her voice, speak with her lips and move her body. She slept in the dark, cried in the deep recesses of her mind, called out for LaFontaine, and received wicked, mocking laughter in return.

Then one day, she was free. She felt the heavy presence lift from her body, felt her fingers move on their own accord, felt her heart beat in her chest, opened her eyes and saw darkness no more. No longer a prisoner, no longer a victim, Perry reached for the first person she saw, and her arms closed around LaFontaine.

Perry woke in the middle of the night, and waited for the presence she had grown so accustomed to. Waited for the being to move her hands, open her eyes, use her vocal chords.


	3. Prompt 3 - Love

Carmilla's vision was red.

Rage infused her being as her arms locked around her dying sister. An ache formed in Carmilla's chest, a heaviness settling on her still heart. She would rip every limb from the redhead's body for this, and feed her her own viscera.

Mattie shuddered and grew still in her embrace, and Carmilla wanted to scream as she held the corpse of the first person who had filled her chest with warmth. The first person who made her feel alive after death. They had walked the world together, traipsed through Parisian streets, bathed in the waters of the Fountain of Youth, and fed off young men gullible enough to follow them down dark alleys. They had laughed together, danced together, wiped crimson from the corners of one another's lips and splattered red across the continents. With Mattie, she never felt she needed to be anyone but herself.

What was she to do, now that another part of her was gone. Who was she to love, if everyone she chose to love left her. Why did she ever allow herself to feel this much for another being, when she knew from experience that it brought nothing but pain.

She gently cradled Mattie's body, allowing the grief in her heart to fuel her anger. Slowly, deliberately, she turned her face towards the redhead whose doom was now at hand.

" _Run_."


	4. Prompt 4 - Hate

Laura had never truly appreciated just how young she was in comparison to the dark-haired beauty who had stolen her heart. Never appreciated all those centuries Carmilla had over her, how they had shaped her, changed her, made her.

But now, looking into Carmilla's face and seeing the grief and rage etched across it, she was suddenly hit with the realisation of just how insanely, incredibly young she was. Because she knew that she would have to live so many more lifetimes to comprehend the anger and pain simmering in Carmilla's eyes.

Mattie's body lay at their feet. Carmilla's world had been destroyed. And Laura was responsible.

She never thought she would see the day when Carmilla would look at her with such contempt. She had never wanted to see such vitriol reflected in those beautiful, dark eyes, eyes which had tempted her, smiled at her, seduced her. She had never considered a world where Carmilla looked at her with rage, had never thought of a world where Carmilla wished to do her harm.

She had never contemplated a world where Carmilla didn't love her.

And she couldn't blame her. A life was gone. A heart had been broken. Carmilla would now turn on her.

And Laura knew she deserved it.


	5. Prompt 5 - Triumph

She was impressed, at first, at how hard Lola Perry fought back.

 _Do not go gentle into that good night_.

It was amusing, really, how the girl refused to go quiet. She could feel her, scratching away inside, fighting against the inevitable. In the beginning, if she was in the mood, she would sometimes allow the silly young thing to regain control. Where was the fun in taking a new body, if one couldn't enjoy the petty perks.

 _Rage, rage against the dying of the light_.

But the girl grew weaker, unable to fight, the life slowly draining out of her. Her voice became a whisper, her screams turned silent, and full control was relinquished. Inana flexed her new fingers, spoke with a voice too high and too soft, and examined the strawberry curls on her head, as the girl's presence became a distant whimper in the recesses of her own mind.

 _Do not go gentle into that good night._

Inana felt her spirit infusing Lola Perry's body, growing stronger and more complete, and she knew that the day was won.


	6. Prompt 6 - Feel

Numbness had become Danny's companion.

Mother had dragged her, screaming and fighting, into a new world, a dark world, an empty world. Her nerves no longer responded to danger, her blood no longer rushed at the thrill of violence. Her heart no longer beat in her chest. Her mind was clouded, confused, and full of darkness. She directed students through the seals, threw Theo out of her way wherever he overstepped, and fed off of Kirsch, chained in the catacombs, his haunted eyes following her, all too willing to offer up his neck and allow her drain his veins.

Numbness was welcome in Danny's world.

Now she didn't know what to do. She could feel something stirring in her chest. Feelings flickering into being, emotions rising beneath the surface. It felt wrong, foreign. After months of feeling nothing, to feel something was startling.

But she walked through the doorway to the Library, and stood in front of the tiny blonde who had once set her nerves a flutter, and for one crazy moment, she thought that she could once again feel her heart beat.


	7. Prompt 7 - Wrecked

Laura had nothing left.

Her head hurt. There was a pounding in her ears, a roaring in the distance, and she wasn't sure she could even feel her heart anymore. Carmilla looked at her with hollow eyes, blood smeared across her mouth, chains still wrapped around her neck.

Vordenberg's body was destroyed. The charter had broken over her knee and she had felt the rush of life as it left his body. Her stomach churned, her nerves exploded, and she felt darkness pressing against her. She wondered how one action could obliterate everything she knew about herself so completely.

Weeks floated by. They hid in the catacombs of the Library, watched as it rebuilt itself, foraged for food amongst the broken-down vending machines, and slept in cobwebby corners and under dilapidated staircases. Laura felt a vast hollowness in her chest, a guilt in her heart which showed no sign of waning, a weight on her soul which she knew she would carry forever.

But sometimes, in the quiet hours of the morning, when the Library was silent and the cries of the students on campus had died down, when she could hear herself think and feel the air whistle through her lungs, Laura would look at Carmilla, peaceful only in sleep, and think to herself that it was worth it.


	8. Prompt 8 - Soft

The Dean lay in the circle, eyes closed, breathing steadily, and wearing the face of their friend. LaFontaine studied Perry's face, the lines they knew so well, the freckles they had counted up close, the lips which had given them their first kiss, and they wondered what it was about Perry's appearance that made her so foreign to them.

The features were the same. The clear blue of her eyes, the gentle curve of her chin, the corkscrew curls which fell around her face. Yet everything was different. There was a hardness in Perry's features, an edge which had never been there before. Her skin looked brittle, hard, as if she were made of steel and bone instead of flesh and blood. Her eyes, when opened, were ice crystals, cold and unforgiving. Her hands curled in cruel talons in her lap.

Perry had been gentle and kind and had only ever wanted things to be nice. LaFontaine remembered how many times they had teased Perry about all those traits which they now missed more than anything. They wondered if they touched Perry, if she would feel the same. If she would still be warm and soft and feel like marshmallows and remind LaFontaine of spring. They reached a hand out, hesitated at the edge of the circle, and withdrew. They gazed down at their friend, and parted their lips, words they hoped Perry would hear forming on their lips.

"Hey Per."


	9. Prompt 9 - Cold

D-Bear had always made him feel safe.

Even all those months ago, when she had confronted him with a face smeared with war paint and a roar in her throat, he had known she represented protection, even if it was protection from him. He had felt the waves of strength emanating from her, and he had known she was the campus' own Joan of Arc, that she would be their beacon of hope, their light in the dark, their hero. He would have followed her off a cliff if she had asked.

Now she was changed. Now she felt different, strange, harsh. And it wasn't just that she kept feeding off his blood. Something had broken in her.

Her eyes were harrowed and dark, no longer the intense, bright blue he had once lost himself in, but a brittle, empty grey. Her cheeks no longer flushed with colour, her voice no longer resonated with righteousness. Her lips no longer smiled, not even in exasperation at his failed references or half-hearted attempts to make her laugh. She had gone somewhere he couldn't reach her.

Kirsch shivered in the dark corners of the catacombs, knowing his tremors came not from the lack of warmth in the pit, but from the reality of a world where Danny no longer cared for him.


	10. Prompt 10 - Without

The first time one of the sacrifices spoke of the girl in the white dress, Carmilla felt a stirring in her chest she never expected to feel again.

The young girl sat on the edge of her bed, and spoke to Carmilla about the dreams which plagued her, the nightmares of a black cat stalking her, and the dark haired girl in the white dress, with a perfect mole by the side of her upper lip. Carmilla closed her eyes and remembered the sensation of running the tip of her tongue over the mole, and a stab of jealousy towards the girl in front of her reverberated through her being. She felt an overwhelming urge to attack the young woman who spilled her deepest thoughts without realising their significance, as if ripping out her throat would somehow erase her own pain.

The second time one of the sacrifices spoke of the girl in the white dress, Carmilla felt a thud in her chest, as if someone had landed a blow directly over her heart. Her mind flooded with images of Elle, the swoop of her hair, the graceful lines of her neck, the softness of her lips, and jealousy coursed through her veins and settled in her heart. The girl answered her questions, spilling details of Carmilla's lost love with no awareness of their importance, and Carmilla resisted the urge to gouge out the young girl's eyes, so that she, too, would never be able to see the dark-haired girl in the white dress again.

The last time one of the sacrifices spoke of the girl in the white dress, Carmilla's heart was conflicted. She stared at the young blonde and the redhead upon whose shoulders she had rested on, and she felt the same surge of jealousy, the same urge to tear out the throat of the girl whose fate allowed her to see Carmilla's dead love. Yet she hesitated, as she always did, but this time it was not the thought of Mother and her wrath which held her still.

Elle was gone. Carmilla would never see her love again. But the blonde in front of her offered new opportunities, a chance at happiness, a possibility of new love.

And so, Carmilla hesitated.


	11. Prompt 11 - Delight

Blood spilled down her throat, hot and sweet and alive, and Carmilla was surprised by the rush which accompanied the taste she had denied herself for so long.

Blood bags and animal blood had become staples in her world. The thrill of the hunt left her with Elle, the feel of hot, young blood dimming into a distant memory, the surge of excitement which accompanied a kill fading, as apathy replaced emotion. She forgot the adrenaline, the rush, the feeling of being _alive_ which came from fresh, human blood.

But now, with Laura's blood filling her mouth, rolling over her tongue, fuelling her strength and rushing through her being, Carmilla felt the overwhelming thrill of sweetness and heat which she had indulged in for so many decades, and wondered if she was strong enough to resist another bite.


	12. Prompt 12 - Confused

Perry was losing time.

She did everything she was meant to. She baked cookies, and helped Laura research, and brought in updates for the broadcasts. She made sure LaFontaine remembered to eat, and swept out the dusty corners of the Dean's apartment. She avoided Carmilla's sister and tried not to dream about the bodies she had discovered in the news room.

But some days she woke in places she couldn't recall falling asleep in. Other days she would lose an hour, the next day two or three. Her head felt clouded, and sometimes she could swear she heard another voice inside her mind.

She wandered through the campus, disoriented, wondered why there was blood on her favourite shirt and tried to reason why she had dressed herself in clothes which felt foreign to her. The crows attacked her and someone cut crimson words into her flesh, and Perry cried alone in her room and allowed herself to give in to her own disorientation.

Perry lost time, woke in places she didn't recognise, found blood splattered on her clothing, and wondered why her world was slowly disintegrating.


End file.
